Back to the Future
by Minerva Solo
Summary: Bar is thinking of leaving his life behind and going back to the century he was born in to find his home. Wally realises that perhaps he should have worked harder to make this century Bart's home.


**Back to the Future**

_A/N: This is what I get for not reading the Flash. Apologies for any and all canon continuity errors. There's probably several. Many thanks to the people who answered all my questions on the subject_

_Note this isn't meant to be a pairing fic. If you want to read it that way, feel free, but I was thinking more along the lines of 'Wally gets his comeuppance'. Hence the repetition of family, which would probably kill the pairing potential here._

_Rating: PG_

_Warnings: angst, fluff_

Wally leant against the doorframe of the shed, watching his protégé work at speeds no one else would have been able to see.

"What are you doing?"

"Rebuilding the Cosmic treadmill," Bart said, focussed intently on the machine.

"Planning a trip?" Wally smirked.

"Yeah."

Rather than elaborate further Bart joined Wally in the doorway for a split second to study his creation then started taking it apart again until he was surrounded by nuts and bolts. Wally realised that he was trying to do this from memory.

"Anywhere in particular?" Wally asked, when it became clear Bart was ignoring him completely.

"Future."

Wally sighed theatrically and grabbed Bart by the shoulder, effectively halting him.

"Are you going to explain this properly, or do I have to get it out of you word by word?"

"I'm going back to the thirtieth century, to join the Legion. For good. I mean, unless in looking through the history books I realise I come back here at some point, or I ought to have."

Wally stared at him. Bart looked completely serious. He held Wally's gaze, fidgeting with a spanner and obviously keen to get back to work.

Wally bit back another sigh. "Bart, you can't do that. Think of the people you'll hurt."

"Not you," Bart said quickly, mouth turning down. "And I've barely seen Helen at all for ages. Jay and Joan will probably say they'll miss me, but I've seen the grocery bills and besides, they've spent more of their lives without me around than they have with, so they shouldn't find it too hard to go back. Carol will totally understand why I'm doing this. Tim and Kon and Cassie and Cissie and everyone... Well, I mean, it's not like we're anything like as close as we used to be or anything, and the Teen Titans will probably be glad I'm not around being bored and needing everything repeated and stuff. There's no one at all at school who would miss me. Have I left anyone out?"

Wally was finding it a little hard to breathe. He'd never expected Bart to dismiss him quiet so glibly. He certainly hadn't expected him to dismiss _everyone_.

"Why?" he managed to ask.

"It's mostly school and stuff," Bart admitted. "I realised that I'll never be able to hold down a job without people knowing who I am, and I don't want to, like, charge people for saving their lives or anything, and I can't live off Jay and Joan forever. Chances of me winning the lottery like you did?"

"What?" Wally asked, baffled. He shook it off and went on, "You'll get better at the secret identity, you will. You're already much better than you were when you arrived. You just need to work harder at it."

"Work harder at it?" Bart stared at him. "I'm always working hard at it! Every time I'm with absolutely anyone else."

"Going at a normal speed-" Wally began.

"What's normal?" Bart demanded. "Am I not normal? I was born with the speed force, Wally. You always _always_ forget that, I think. You went at 'normal' speed for years before you became a speedster. It's easy for you! I grew up going at what I thought was a normal speed because everything else went at my speed. And then I come out and everyone is _so_ slow and if I ever want to talk to anyone or do anything I have to try and slow down or I'll be alone in a statue world and I don't want that but I'm tired of having to repress who I am and pretend to be what you call 'normal'. You try and make me conform to your norms and that's not right! Do you know how many books there are on prejudice in the San Francisco library?"

"You're a speedster, not gay," Wally snapped.

"I'm just... I want to not have to pretend not to be me," Bart deflated. "It's like I am in the closet about being a superhero, and I don't like it. I want to go at my speeds and have people understand that. Write instructions down for me, instead of talk to me. Do you know how hard it is to understand what someone's saying when one syllable takes half an hour in subjective time? I want to be with my cousin. She gets it, even though she wasn't born a speedster. I want to see if they ever got Max back, or if they might know how. I want to be taken seriously by my peers." Bart rubbed his elbow with his opposite hand, wrinkling his sleeve up. "Go away, Wally."

Wally looked at him, thought about his words, and ran.

* * *

Roy opened the door and waved Wally in. "Hey, Flasher. What you doing in these parts?"

Lian looked up from by the couch, where she had been playing at her father's feet. "Wally," she said disinterestedly, and went back to playing with her GI Joe. Wally raised an eyebrow at the toy.

"I didn't want to get her a toy that perpetrates negative gender stereotypes," Roy said. "And besides, maybe it'll remind her of me when I'm not around."

"You wanted a toy you could play with too, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Roy grinned unashamedly. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"How do you do it? Be a dad?"

Roy glanced down at Lian. "This is about Impulse, isn't it?"

"Kid Flash," Wally corrected. "Yeah. Apparently he's planning to go back to the future and join the Legion. He can't see a life for himself here."

"I thought you'd be glad he was thinking ahead," Roy chided gently. "You play the 'people will miss you' card?"

"First thing he said was 'you won't'," Wally said glumly.

"I'd have thought you'd be glad to have him off your hands."

"Is that how everyone thinks of me?" Wally asked, aghast. "Do people really think I find him that irritating?"

Roy gave him a knowing look. "Don't you?"

"No!"

"Perhaps you ought to tell him that."

* * *

When Wally returned later, having detoured a few times to sort out two muggings, a bank robbery and a guy in pink lycra who was talking about world domination, the shed was empty and Bart was doing his homework at the kitchen table. He glanced up as Wally let himself in through the back door.

"Jay's taken Joan to the hospital for her regular check up," he informed Wally.

"Alone then?" Wally seated himself opposite Bart. "What are you studying?"

"Charles Dickens. It's kinda interesting," Bart admitted grudgingly. "He was all liberal and almost revolutionary. He thought America was going to be this wonderful free land without all those oppressive aristocrats and ranks and stuff they have in England, then came to visit and realised we still had slaves and stuff. Realised the poor were probably better off in England. Well, some of the poor. There's this whole 'grass is greener on the other side' aspect to it, you know? Anyway, it's kinda cool, for school stuff."

"So... I see the Cosmic Treadmill is gone," Wally said cautiously.

"Yeah. I called Robin to ask about some stuff, and he pointed out that the future's all different now. While I would quite like to do the Kid Flash thing full time, I'm not sure if I'd like to be in a position where I never got any time off. I mean, it's changed since I was born, and several times since, and we changed it last time we were there, so I don't even know what to expect." Bart wrinkled his nose. "Mom and XS probably aren't even there any more. I mean, I can still exist in universes where my parents never existed. I might as well not have parents."

"You must remember things that never happened," Wally realised aloud. Bart gave him a scathing look, as though to demonstrate that Wally had somewhat missed the point of his little speech.

They sat in silence for a while, Bart reading at superspeed but forced to write only as fast as the ink flowed. Wally watched him forget and fill three pages with nothing before he noticed. It wasn't until he saw a tear splash onto the page that he realised Bart's shoulders were shaking and his breath was coming in tight repressed gasps.

"Bart? What's wrong?"

Bart swallowed and dashed a fist across his eyes. His mouth was set in that grim line peculiar to those fighting the urge to break down completely. He took a deep breath, then another. He blinked rapidly several times.

"You're the only family I've got left," Bart mumbled eventually, "and you don't even want me."

"That's not true," Wally told him.

"Tis," Bart sniffed. "The whole future keeps changing, and the past, and I shouldn't even exist any more. I've got _no one_. I'm just some random kid people feel obliged to look after coz he needs to be looked after." A second tear escaped and dripped from the bottom of his chin. Bart stared down into his lap.

"I meant," Wally said, keeping his voice level, "that I do want you. Of course I do. We're family."

Bart shook his head rapidly, but said nothing.

"Bart... Look, Bart, I know it doesn't always look like that. I know it looks like I'm just bossing you around all the time, but that's because I want what's best for you. Everyone does. I'm not picking on you."

"You're trying to make me into a good Flash," Bart swallowed. "That's got nothing to do with being family or liking me. Everyone just wants me to be a good Flash. It's what I was born for, right? Like Kon was born to be Superman."

It struck Wally how strange that must be. A whole generation was coming into being now that had never been given any choice in its future. Not only were children being moulded before they were in a position to make up their own minds about it, they were being moulded into people they saw around them. A little row of replacements, all lined up. A nice neat reminder about his own mortality, and a sudden twist of guilt as to the morals of all this.

"No wonder you have a hard time picturing yourself supporting yourself," Wally thought out loud. "No one's ever shown you any options there."

"School had a career day," Bart told him. "I just... I don't see how I could do that. I can't keep making things specifically hard for myself. I'm having enough trouble as it is, under performing in class and over performing in tests. Everyone thinks I'm a cheat."

"I don't," Wally reassured him.

Bart frowned at him. "You said you didn't believe me when I told you I remembered everything I read."

"When?" Wally asked, staring at him.

"Not to my face," Bart admitted, "but I was on the stairs, and I heard you."

"Well, I do believe you."

Bart rolled his eyes. "That's not the point!" he snapped. "You have no faith in me! When did I ever lie to you, Wally? But you still doubted me. You always do. You put me down and you push me away because you don't like me. I'm not blind. Just saying you do won't convince me."

Wally was taken aback literally, and shifted his chair away from the table. That guilt was forming a large knot now. He couldn't swallow past it in his throat.

"I... I don't know you very well," he said after a long accusing pause. "You don't know me, either."

"I think I do," Bart muttered petulantly.

"And what do you know?" Wally snarled, unable to help himself.

"I know you never change your opinion about someone! I know you try to hide your mistakes and pretend they never happened, or weren't your fault. I know you don't always know what you're doing, but you pretend you do to be like Grandpa Barry. I know you're nothing like Grandpa Barry, and you know it too and you don't like that at all," Bart finished triumphantly.

"I... know," Wally nodded reluctantly. "He... he was taken away so suddenly, and, and someone had to fill his shoes. Maybe I wasn't the right person."

"No, you're scared you weren't the right person," Bart corrected superciliously. "The Speed Force chose you, Wally, like it chose me and a bunch of other people. 'Right' is a subjective term, and besides, you were the only one who could have."

"Look, Bart," Wally said, leaning over the table, "_you_ don't... you don't _have_ to be the Flash, understand? You can be a lawyer, or a doctor, or the fastest FedEx delivery man in the west. I... it wasn't a role I was ready for, or even wanted, I think. So if it's not something you want to do, don't."

Bart stared at him, large gold eyes still damp but tear-free, blinking slowly.

"Wally," he said, "I'm going to be the Flash. I know it, and I want it. And... you don't have to die, okay? You can just step down. Don't die, okay?" Bart bit his lip and fiddled with the ragged end of a sleeve. "I might want your advice sometimes. I don't need you telling me how to do everything, and sometimes your way isn't a good way, I think, but I don't mind advice. I know you want me to be a good Flash, but I don't think you know what does make a good Flash. I don't either."

Wally nodded, feeling as though his head had suddenly gained in weight, struggling to bring it up again each time. He felt like he was talking to a stranger. A young man, not a young boy; self-possessed but scared, free from the social restrictions most people learn as they grow up but lacking the structured path those restrictions would have given.

Maybe not a stranger, Wally realised. He was talking to Kid Flash. Kid Flash II, he reminded himself. He remembered wanting to be himself but scared of being rejected for being different. He remembered chafing against the bit and never knowing the difference between new ideas and bad ideas. It was hard to ask for guidance, but Bart was doing just that.

Bart probably was going to make a better Flash, Wally realised with a pang of jealousy. His whole life was geared around it and his dedication absolute. It wasn't precisely that it was being Bart was causing him trouble, it was that he never separated the two in his head. No wonder the concept of secret identity was hard for him to grasp.

"I... Bart, I do like you, you have to believe me, okay? I know everyone thinks I don't, but I do. You're a good kid. I'm just crap at this dad stuff."

"You're not my dad," Bart said, frowning.

Wally swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. "I think that's where I went wrong," he said.

"Oh."

Wally opened his eyes to see Bart crawling across the table, over his homework.

"You mean you ought to have taken me in, and raised me?" Bart asked, seating himself crosslegged in front of Wally. "Driven each other com_plete_ly mad?"

Wally snorted at that. "Maybe. At least I'd have seen you changing. I'm... I'm sorry I still treat you like you only just arrived in this time, okay? Maybe I don't want to acknowledge so much time has passed since then. I never seem to see you except when things are going wrong and we're both on edge anyway. You're right, we are family, and I've been acting like we aren't."

Bart cocked his head to one side. "What are you saying? We ought to hang out more?"

"Yes, definitely that," Wally confirmed. "Outside of Flash time. Maybe even... maybe at some point, if we can reach a point where we _wouldn't_ drive each other insane, maybe you could come and live with me. Like Aunt Iris intended."

"I... Wow." Bart stared at him. "You mean that?"

"Yes," Wally said, trying to squash the doubt inside him.

"You're not just saying it to convince me you like me?"

"I don't think I know you well enough to reach a conclusion about your personality," Wally said truthfully. "I don't think that's the point of being family."

Bart broke into a wide grin and plunged forwards, wrapping his arms around Wally's chest. Wally hugged him awkwardly back.

"You'd miss me if I went away, wouldn't you?" Bart asked Wally's shoulder blade. "You'd be the person I hurt."

"I'm not the only one," Wally insisted.

"I know," Bart told him. "I just... I was having a self-doubt day, you know?"

"I know exactly."


End file.
